


On Top of the World

by tkachuk



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Best Friends, Cliffhanger, Come Eating, Coming Out, Dylan is kinda a bitch in parts, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Mitch is rlly bashful but who expected anything else, Teenagers, handjobs, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-09-19 17:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17006130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkachuk/pseuds/tkachuk
Summary: "Would you be a top or bottom?"Dylan's eyes shot open.He rolled over in the pitch black darkness of his room to look at the general area where Mitch would be sleeping on the floor. "Excuse me?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is very short but I still love it all the same, and I hope you do too! There may be a continuation on this at some point (: Leave feedback in the comments, it would really be appreciated <3

"Would you be a top or bottom?"

Dylan's eyes shot open.

He rolled over in the pitch black darkness of his room to look at the general area where Mitch would be sleeping on the floor. "Excuse me?"

Dylan heard rustling as Mitch squirmed in his sleeping bag. "You heard me Dyl..."

Silence.

Dylan let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in. "Mitchell, I am very close to kicking you out of my house right now."

Mitch huffed. "Technically, you can't kick me out because this isn't your house. Also, your mother would be very upset. And she loves me way more than you. So she wouldn't allow that anyway."

"That's a bold statement," Dylan said pointedly.

More silence.

"You never answered my question."

 

"It's bold of you to assume that I'd be a top or bottom."

Mitch sighed, frustrated. "It's just a question."

"This feels like more than just a question."

 

"What makes this seem any more of a question than me asking whether you prefer apple or orange juice or if you prefer the left or right side of the bed?"

"Apple, and right side."

 

"Dylan!"

"What?"

 

"You're avoiding the question again."

"You asked me more than one question, Mitchell."

"Yeah, and you're answering the ones I don't care about."

Dylan pouted, though he knew Mitch couldn't see him clearly in the darkness. "Why would you not care about what my favorite juice is? Fake friend?"

Mitch threw his pillow at him, and Dylan caught it swiftly.

"Now you don't have a pillow. Smart move."

Mitch's head thumped off the ground in defeat, and Dylan closed his eyes once again.

"But really, if you were put in a position where you had to choose whether to be a top or bottom, what would you do?"

Dylan threw Mitch's pillow back at him. "Why are you so interested in this, anyway?"

Mitch hesitated. "I think I'm bisexual, Dyl."

Silence. Mitch gulped.

"Okay."

"Okay? That's all?"

Dylan chuckled a tad.

"And this is funny now?"

 

"It's a little funny."

"This is not funny, you bitch."

"It's a bit comical, actually. I mean it's not like I didn't know."

"And how would you know?"

 

"Mitchell, we've been teammates and best friends for years. I see what goes on in the locker room."

Mitch gasped and paused. "You saw me kiss Connor? He said we were the last two there, I swear to God I'm gonna kick his ass."

Dylan turned on the lamp beside him.

"You, what?"

Dylan looked over at Mitch on the floor. His cheeks were rosy and he was wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets. He looked cute, Dylan thought.

"Was that what you were not getting at with that?" Mitch asked, his voice small.

"No?"

"Oh."

Silence.

"Mitch?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't sleep on the floor, would you not?"

 

"Oh, yes, Dylan. Let me just climb out of your window and sleep on the roof."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "No, you dumbass. Get in the bed."

"Your bed?"

"No, Mitch. My mom's bed. Yes. My bed."

Mitch slowly unraveled himself from his collection of blankets and got up off of the sleeping bag. He picked up his blankets and hesitantly got in bed next to Dylan, on the left side. Mitch turned to face Dylan.

"Mitch?"

 

Mitch let out a small, kitten-like breath. "Yes, Dylan?"

 

"I'm a bottom, by the way."

"You are?"

"I am."

Mitch smiled, his cheeks even rosier. "Good night, Dylan."

Dylan turned over to switch his lamp off. "Night, Mitch."

Silence. 

Mitch slipped his leg in between Dylan's.

Dylan's eyes shot open.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some asked for a continuation, and I was kinda bored, so here it is. 3 months later.
> 
> I also probably wont proofread this until tomorrow because i'm hella tired and wanna go to sleep.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

"Mitch?"

Dylan's heavy-lidded eyes looked down at Mitch's moonlit face. Mitch was in a daze staring at their slotted legs like he couldn't believe he just did it.

Dylan really couldn't grasp the fact that he just did that either.

Mitch looked up at him with equally as heavy eyes, slow, trailing over Dylan's expression, trying to read what was displayed on his face.

Dylan's brows furrowed.

"Why did you ask me whether I was a top or bottom, Mitch?"

Mitch huffed. He sighed a small little breath that was just enough to make Dylan's heart flutter with anxiety.

"Dylan," he started.

Dylan raised an eyebrow.

Mitch exhaled again. Dylan went a little crazy.

"Look, Dylan?" he hesitated. "I like you. I know I'm me and everything, how could you possibly love your best friend back like that, and- I really thought you were straight before, but now I'm not so sure, alright? Like with the top and bottom thing and you asking me to get into bed with you and-"

 

"Mitch, stop."

Mitch winced. "I wasn't done yet."

"You mean there was a point to that rambling?"

Mitch rolled his eyes. "Yeah, dumbass. I like you. A lot. I like your face a whole lot too, but I like YOU more to the moon and back. I like when you're happy because it makes me skyrocket, also to the moon."

"Hold up, do you like astrology all of a sudden?"

"Shut up, Dylan. I love your bitchy, inappropriate sarcasm, and I love how hilarious you are. I love our line chem. I love the coffee runs we've had every day since we were 14. I love your laugh, your hair, your eyes. So, I like you, Dyl."

Dylan made a noise that even he couldn't describe, maybe a choked off whine. Mitch's leg was still in between his, intertwined, and they fit together like puzzle pieces.

"Hey... hey. this isn't easy for me, okay? The last thing I wanted to do is ruin our friendship over my big fucking crush on my best friend. But you matter to me, a lot."

Dylan's soft lips parted in shock. Mitch just stared into his rich, deep eyes looking like a kicked puppy.

"Please say something," Mitch whispered.

Dylan froze until he analyzed the hurt look on Mitch's face.

He realized he wanted to take that look away.

Dylan shifted underneath their shared cover so Mitch's thigh was in between his own, and they sighed in sync.

Mitch looked up at Dylan with wide blue eyes. 

Yeah, this will work, Dylan thought, this will work out real nice.

Dylan rolled.

He rolled right on top of Mitch and held himself up by the arms.

 

 

Mitch stared up at him looming down at him, and he held his stare for almost a century before Dylan came crashing down on top of him and kissed him, hard but sweet, almost passionate.

Mitch heard someone moan. He figured it was him. But after further consideration, he thinks it was Dylan.

 

 

Dylan moaned when his lips came down on Mitch's. He didn't realize he was so hungry for Mitch until he actually had him there all to himself. He slid a knee in between Mitch's thighs and pressed up into his crotch. God, was he starving.

 

 

Mitch knows for sure he was the one who moaned this time. Dylan smelled like fresh picked cherries and cedarwood, and he couldn't get enough of it. Mitch, still flat on his back, slipped a hand into Dylan's slightest of curls and pulled him back by them.

"You're telling me, you let me go on that goddamn heart filled rant for- who knows how long without stopping me? With you feeling the same damn way?"

Dylan's kiss-swollen lips upturned into a grin. "I would never stop that. It was cute."

"Just cute, huh? You could never guess how long I've been holding that all in for you." Mitch still had Dylan grabbed by the hair, and Dylan sighed when he tightened his hold on him.

"You like that, Dyl?"

He nodded.

"What?"

"Yes," Dylan breathed, "I love it."

Mitch flipped Dylan so their roles were switched, now Mitch towering over his best friend spread across the bed. 

 

 

Dylan was so, so, vulnerable.

He usually hated himself for his vulnerability, but in situations like these, he couldn't be more thankful for it.

Being vulnerable for Mitch? He couldn't imagine it any other way, with the way Mitch was looking at him. With want. With passion. Almost with love.

Mitch came down onto his lips, harder and more aggressive than Dylan's more passionate approach. Dylan loved it.

"Sit up," Mitch instructed Dylan. Mitch tugged Dyl's shirt off before throwing his own somewhere across the room.

Mitch kissed him again. "You're so hot, Dyl. I've wanted this, wanted you for so long, you don't even know."

Dylan groaned, his grey sweats starting to tent as Mitch went down onto his neck, sucking a hickey on the side, and kissing the spot tenderly when he was complete.

He ventured down to the mole on his collarbone and kissed it. He kissed his right shoulder, then the left, a smaller mole beside that arm on his ribcage. Beside his belly button. His waistband to his Nike sweats.

"God, Mitch, do it, please."

"What do you want?" Mitch replied as he slid both thumbs underneath the elastic, coming into no contact with a second band. "No boxers, huh?"

"Never with you," Dylan responded, "and Mitch, blow me?" he added, tiredly.

"How about in the morning, eh, Dyl? I want you to be wide awake for when I take all of you in."

 

 

Dylan's cock jumped through his sweats, and Mitch took that as his cue to pull his sweats down to his lower thighs.

His dick sprang loose, red and already dripping with precome.

"Damn Stromer, already worked up, huh? I barely did anything yet." He licked a big, dripping stripe up the underside of his dick, and Dylan almost cried right then and there.

"Mitch," Dylan replied breathily, "don't call me Stromer when your tongue is on my dick."

Mitch grinned, licking one more time, dragging up like he had all the time in the world. Dylan's 7 inches sure left enough room for him to take his time dragging upward, and Mitch was thankful for it.

Dylan mumbled incoherently as he struggled to form a single thought. Mitch wasn't sure what he enjoyed more, having his tongue on his dick or teasing Dylan into knowing he wouldn't have Mitch's mouth totally on him until tomorrow.

Mitch liked to make him feel like a better person than he was, so he chose the first option.

Mitch put his hand up to Dylan's mouth. "Lick."

Dylan obeyed, and Mitch's wet hand traveled down to his surely aching cock.

Mitch wrapped a sturdy hand around the base, and Dylan let out a string of moans that Mitch wouldn't be able to get out of his head anytime in the near future. He twisted his wrist on the upstroke and rotated back down, back and forth, picking up speed accordingly based off of Dylan's breathing. 

Dylan was just about moaning with every stroke Mitch took, and Mitch took that as his opportunity to speed up the tiniest bit more, his calloused thumb rubbing over his slit whenever it was reachable.

Dylan cried out. "Mitch," he basically sobbed as he came all over his best friend's hand.

Mitch rubbed him through his orgasm before he looked at Dylan's face.

Good god, he was beautiful. 

His hair was messy and he was right on the verge of sweating, but goddamn, he looked sexy. His cheeks were red and rosy from exertion and his eyes were blown with bliss. Only then Mitch could confirm his feelings about him- Mitch is in love with Dylan.

Only then he also realized how bad his cock was straining against his joggers. He grabbed his dick from outside of his pants.

"Hey, hey, I'll help you there, what do you want me to do?" Dylan asked, eyes still wide and breathing heavily.

Mitch sighed. "Can I come on your face? Like in your mouth?"

The red on Dylan's face deepened as Mitch's request sunk into his skin. "God, hell yeah, please."

 

Dylan sat up against the headboard of the bed, slouched down a bit. Mitch went in between his legs kneeling on the mattress. He pulled the waistband of his joggers down and freed his cock, aching and needing attention. He wrapped a hand around himself and looked down at Dylan, looking up at him, beaming.

Mitch's arousal spread like wildfire when he saw Dylan licking his lips below him, ready. Good god, this boy was needy for it.

He imagined fucking Dylan hard with angst. Fucking Dylan passionately, filled with love, sweet and spilling with desire for each other.

"I'm close, Dyl."

That was all Mitch needed to see. Dylan closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and stuck out his tongue. Mitch rubbed the head of his dick along the length of his tongue, and that was it for him. He came in his mouth, mostly, some dripping off of his tongue and onto his chin. Dylan licked it up to the last drop, and Mitch collapsed next to Dylan on the bed.

Dylan was the first to speak. "Good God, Mitch, next time you feel something with me, tell me sooner, got it?"

Mitch laughed. "Got it."

They were quiet for minutes upon minutes. Mitch thought Dylan fell asleep.

 

"Mitch?"

Nope.

"Dylan?"

"You never answered my question?"

Mitch sighed, exhausted and slightly cum drunk. "Which is?"

"Why did you really ask me if I was a top or bottom?"

Mitch thought for a minute. "Well, if you answered like you were disgusted, I would have never come out to you or tried to lay my moves on you. I mean, if you would've answered metaphorically, then I probably wouldn't have tried, either. But you kinda came out to me, too. And you invited me into your bed. So I was like, fuck it. And 'm so glad I said fuck it," Mitch tried to explain sleepily.

Dylan giggled. "Well, I'm gay, and just so you know, I like you too. A lot."

 

Mitch smiled. "Goodnight, Dylan." He laid a kiss on the center of his forehead, then on the tip of his nose.

"Goodnight, Mitchell."

 

The room was silent for a long, long time.

Mitch had an idea. 

 

"Wanna fuck tomorrow?"

 

Dylan's eyes shot open.


End file.
